


The Antibiotic to Anxiety | Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Discontinued)

by bellerame (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Save Me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bellerame
Summary: What happens when you get a plan derived from your mother's tellings that sharing a bed can help immensely with sleep deprivation and anxiety? Lord knows.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> the only spoilers are for the first few episodes of season 3.2 probably

“Mr. Silinski,” you said firmly, feet shuffling back and forth on the household doorstep. It was cold out, and you were shivering. That wasn’t going to stop you, though. Readjusting your hold on the duffle bag between all ten of your fingers, you cleared your throat. The Sheriff looked at you expectantly.

“May I have permission to stay at your house for, like, at least a week?” you requested of him, although his confused expression only changed to one of deep thought. "And stay in your son’s bedroom,” you continued, "And before you ask, we’re not dating, and I have no intention of anything becoming sexual.” He was either deeply confused or… well, you had no idea. 

“I’m sorry… what?” You chuckled and bent down to gently drop the bag as it was becoming particularly heavy, but Stilinski interrupted your actions. “Oh, c'mon in,” he offered, and you smiled lightly at the familiar interior. “Have a seat. They recline.” You gladly sat your duffle on the floor next to the couch.

“I know.” You pulled the handle back when it breathed a loud _spring._  


“You know?” Your smile faded slide when you remembered that Stiles’ father hadn’t exactly been notified of your previous experiences in their cozy home.

“Oh, ah… yeah. I’ve been here a few times before to study and stuff. Me and Stiles are good friends at school, so…” you explained. You heard steps emitting from the staircase as Stiles’ figure appeared.

“Hey,” he greeted. “What are you doing here?” He was dressed in a simple maroon t-shir and some Star Wars themed pajama pants. “And what is that?” he asked specifically when he saw your duffle bag.

“I was just about to explain,” you smiled awkwardly, making sure to rotate your gaze between the two. “Stiles,” you addressed, “you’re obviously not okay. I was just wondering if… well, if I could stay here with the two of you. There’s been so much going on I’m sure it’s been a burden keeping up with your house and… and, well, you know. Stuff.” You shrugged.

“But what the hell was it you were talking about when you said 'his bedroom'?” the Sheriff questioned. You blushed slightly, really regretting not asking Stiles about that bit beforehand. You sat down on the couch, though, and Stiles walked around to sit on the cushion by you.

“Well, Stiles, I just thought…” you paused a moment to contemplate, but your eyes caught themselves in Stiles’ eyes. Tinted by the warm lighting, they were made a gorgeous golden brown. Once you realized it was probably weird to be staring at him, you turned to look at the Sheriff. “I was thinking that since you’ve been having trouble sleeping, having someone there with you would make it better.” There was an awkward silence. “I-if you don’t want that, that’s completely fine, it’s just… my mother, when I was a kid, she would always tell me that if I ever had a nightmare or simply felt _alone_  that I could come sleep with her in her bed. She was a scientist, you know, and she studied the brain and human contact and stuff. Sharing a bed makes you feel safer. And it reduces the amount of stress cortisol and ups the oxytocin, which is basically like antibiotics for anxiety.” When no one still said anything, you looked down at your hands and fiddled with your fingers. “I’m sorry. This was a stupid idea; I’ll just-"

     “No, wait,” Stiles pressed. You looked up at him, back into his gorgeous golden-brown eyes, trying not to awkwardly shift between looking at which eye too much. “That’s not a bad idea.” Your eyebrows lifted in habit, but his eyes broke from yours to glance back at his father, and the Sheriff only shrugged.

“Worth a shot,” he said. You sighed in relief of the acceptance.

* * *

“So… how are we going to do this?” you asked when you reached his bedroom. Stiles walked over to his dresser and pulled at the top drawer. Immediately, he tossed out all the items onto the floor, then turned to you.

“Put your stuff in here,” he told you, “And then go get dressed in the bathroom down the hall.” You did just as he said, although you didn’t think this plan through the entire way as you normally slept in just a simple t-shirt and undies. For tonight, though, you chose a pair of baggy pajama pants and an extra baggy shirt, as you couldn’t bare sleeping with a bra on and you definitely did not anything less that baggy.

The lights were off when you walked back into his bedroom, and the only way you could see was by the glow from the hallway. Stiles wasn’t there, but you used what light you had to awkwardly sit on his bed for a few minutes, turning over your situation in your mind again. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t have guessed it would’ve actually worked, but here you were… in Stiles’s bedroom... about to sleep in the same bed.

What in the world had you gotten yourself into?

“Hey,” Stiles whispered as he appeared in the doorway again. “What’s up?” he asked, curious as to what was on your mind. He walked over and sat on his bed, lying down before connecting your eyes once again. When you didn’t answer and only stared, he pat the space next to him. You stiffly scooted back and lied down beside him. You desperately longed to cuddle up next to his side and fall asleep in his arms, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Well, maybe it wasn’t just Stiles’s health you were contemplating when you planned this. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, carefully hoping to convey your feelings.

“I really hope you’re gonna be okay,” you told him worriedly. He had no real idea how much you cared for him. You’d have to thank Lydia some day for dragging you into this mess.

“Hey,” he said yet again but this time comfortingly. He reached his arm around your shoulders and sighed. “I’ll be alright. It hasn’t killed me yet."

“That doesn’t mean it won’t,” you whispered. Stiles was uncomfortably silent. You laid a warm hand on his chest and felt his breathing quicken. For a long time you laid there. Eventually, his breaths lagged, and you were positive he’d fallen asleep. You smiled truthfully and exhaled as you settled your head on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> newly proofread ;))))))))


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month later.

It’d been a month. Your stuff was still piled in his top drawer. Your school backpack lay at the end of his bed. And as much as you would’ve wished, it wasn’t still there because you were spending every night with him. It wasn’t still there because he loved and adored you sleeping in his bed and stealing his t-shirts when you didn’t feel like doing the laundry for the small amount of clothing you’d kept there. If that was the case, you would’ve brought more clothes. You would’ve started spending your afternoons after school there with him. You probably would’ve ended up kissing him, fed up with the amount of time you’d spent without your true feelings shared.

     No, instead it was there because you couldn’t bring yourself to move it. It was there because every time you tried to walk inside his bedroom you started crying. You wouldn’t let yourself move it. Rather, you preserved it. You didn’t touch a thing, leaving the past reality inside the bedroom for you to come back to once a week so that you could remember. Remember the nights you spent talking about theories and names and ideas you never really understood. Times you spent laughing with each other while the sun poured in through the windows, giving his chocolate eyes a golden glow that matched that of his smile.

     Now, his interactions were of nothing similar. They were of malicious intent, and they killed you. Although everyone promised you there had to be a way to return him to normal, you only thought of how much _pain_  must he be in to watch as he himself unleashes beasts with deadly swords onto his friends. Onto you.

     You sighed yet again, lugging your makeshift bag onto your shoulder. Now-a-days, you hardly paid any attention in class, so what was the point in bringing any books home? You never remembered the homework assignments. You only sat, lonely, on your bed. It didn’t feel like your bed. It felt like a stranger’s. Yeah, you owned it, but it didn’t feel like home. Wasn’t that what it was supposed to feel like? You tossed the limp bag into your locker and grabbed a stack of books, shutting the locker with a weak toss.

     Only the Stilinskis had known of your plan. If you were going to be honest, you never told them only because it would’ve been hard to explain without it seeming… well, you know, romantic. Although, innerly, you knew that they understood you were feeling some more grief than of just a friend. You just never wanted to talk about it. You would listen as they spoke of ways that had a possibility of saving him, but you never spoke yourself. You’d end up choking gone your words; you’d end up shedding tears in thinking that you had absolutely _no idea_  on how to save him. You had no idea how anyone would be able to save him. So, as expected, you kept to yourself about those thoughts. Then, when the time would come around, you’d grab your baseball bat and swing at whatever face seemed opposing enough. You didn’t know what else to do.

     The day slugged along per usual. You stared off into space, although your thoughts were empty. Empty. That was the perfect adjective. For everything.

     You didn’t talk to anyone. You picked up a platter of food at lunch, but you merely poked it around with your fork and spoon. You could see the concerned glances, especially from Lydia, but you only returned them sadly, begging them with your eyes not to interrogate you. They normally never did.

     “Hey… ah, (Y/n), are you sure you’re okay?” Lydia questioned. She knew. You knew she knew. Everyone knew, after all. After too many seconds of silence, she spoke again, “You know Stiles wouldn’t want you to be so worked up about this."

     “Well, if you haven’t noticed, Stiles isn’t _here_ , Lydia,” you proclaimed accusingly. You didn’t look up. You couldn’t bare to see what you knew was a surprised expression on her face. No one said anything, even to the end of lunch, and you could feel the guilt rolling around in your stomach. It felt like you’d swallowed thorns, so before you went to your next class, you caught Lydia at her locker.

     “Hey,” you said, awkwardly, hoping she would even respond to you.

     “Hey,” she acknowledged, smiling on the outside.

     “I’m… I’m sorry about that. At lunch.” You sighed. “It’s just that, with everything- I’ve just…” You frustratingly sighed again.

     “Hey, it’s alright,” she assured you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You made eye contact. “I get it. It’s not easy dealing with your friend being… well, possessed.” You nodded.

     “Speaking of that,” she started, “I didn’t think you heard that we actually think we have a way of getting to Stiles.” Your heart lifted tremendously at the sudden actual conclusion.

     “Really? How?” Her eyebrows clenched, and yours did too in reaction.

     “That’s hard to explain. But we need your help.”

     “Of course,” you answered weirdly quickly. You cleared your throat, shifting your gaze to the floor. “Anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is going surprisingly well what


	3. Discontinued - Author's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for those of you who were enjoying this, but I've fallen out of the inspiration for this idea. Here are my thoughts.

Hello, all! Although I'm not fond of clicking the 'new chapter' button just to disappoint people with an author's note, I simply couldn't leave this story without an explanation.

I have fallen out of the Teen Wolf phase that I was previously in, and I don't feel inspired anymore to continue this story. I still quite like the concept, and I would love for it to be continued and taken to its fullest potential. So, if anyone is up for continuing it as they wish or even simply using the idea of the story, please comment below to let me know so that I may read it and please give me credit either in a note or in the summary.

Thank you all so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> good gosh im too far gone guys
> 
> ive watched teen wolf im so desperate but im infatuated with it
> 
> this is neither an encouragement to watch it or an encouragement to never look at it again


End file.
